


Something to Come Home To

by FreshBrains



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Avengers: Age of Ultron (Movie) Spoilers, Banter, Domestic, Established Relationship, Humor, M/M, POV Tony Stark, Post-Avengers: Age of Ultron (Movie)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-04
Updated: 2015-05-04
Packaged: 2018-03-28 22:32:52
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 928
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3872209
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FreshBrains/pseuds/FreshBrains
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Steve sighs, running a hand through his hair for probably the umpteenth time that day.  “I can’t turn it off…I always feel like I’m <i>responsible</i> for them, even when I’m home.”</p>
<p>Tony strips down to his boxers and sits down on the bed.  “That, my broad-shouldered friend and lover, is a shitty problem to have.  This is, of course, coming from a man who strives to have no responsibilities <i>ever</i>.”</p>
            </blockquote>





	Something to Come Home To

**Author's Note:**

> **Includes major spoilers for _Age of Ultron_**.

“Are you stripped bare and ready to frick-frack, loverboy?” Tony calls into the bedroom as he slides his jacket down his shoulders and tosses it onto the armchair, his phone thudding against the fabric where he forgot it in his pocket.

“You’ll break your phone again,” Steve says absentmindedly, still staring down at the files covering their bed.  “And pardon me?” He looks like every single wet dream Tony has ever had, sitting cross-legged on the duvet in a white tee shirt and boxer briefs, his hair all mussed from running his own fingers through it all day.

“Did you get that Urban Dictionary link I sent you?” Tony wrestles his phone out of his jacket and tosses it into the bed, disturbing a stack of what looks like half a dozen pictures of Wanda Maximoff in various states of battle.  “It was a hyper-link.  It said what it was right in the link, yeah?  I know you don’t like internet surprises.”

Steve cocks an eyebrow and straightens the photos.  “Sure, I don’t like surprises, but the link explicitly said ‘nice euphemisms for sex,’ and I was in a meeting with Agent Hill.  I was afraid there would be sound or something.”

“You should’ve shown her, she’d love it,” Tony says, sinking down into the armchair.  He tugs his shoes off, letting them drop beneath the chair, even though it always drove Steve insane.  “I’ll forward it to her.”  He nods towards the stacks of paper on the bed.  “Little late for homework, huh, handsome?”

Steve glances up, trying to hide a smile.  “You’re one to talk.”

Tony shrugs and grins.  He’s trying to cut down the long hours in the lab, but Steve always understands—it’s a necessary evil, a habit too hard to break.  They’re good at dealing with those together.  “But alas, here I am.  Can I help with anything?  Rhodey won’t tell me secret Avenger things anymore, the little traitor.”

Steve sighs, running a hand through his hair for probably the umpteenth time that day.  “No, I’m just about done.  I can’t turn it off…I always feel like I’m _responsible_ for them, even when I’m home.”

Tony strips down to his boxers and sits down on the bed.  “That, my broad-shouldered friend and lover, is a shitty problem to have.  This is, of course, coming from a man who strives to have no responsibilities _ever_.” He of course won’t tell Steve how he sends packages of new toys and age-appropriate engineering activity kits to the Barton household every week and demands updates on the little one daily.  He’ll maintain a little bit of an image still.

Steve tucks the last of the paper into a file and drops it into the floor.  “You’re all talk.  Come here, give me a kiss.”

“There we go,” Tony says, leaning in and cupping a hand around the back of Steve’s neck.  “God, I feel like I haven’t seen you in days.  Do you even live here anymore?  Do _l_ live here anymore?” He nips gently at Steve’s jaw, light and teasing, the foolproof way to turn his guy into a puddle of red-white-and-blue goo.

Steve shudders, tugging Tony down so they fall against the pillows.  “I know I haven’t kissed you since yesterday and I’ll admit that it’s been too long.”

Tony positions them so he’s between Steve’s legs, Steve propped comfortably against the pillows.  He leans down and presses another kiss to Steve’s lips.  “You’re a sap and I wouldn’t expect anything less.”

“Hush,” Steve says, and arches, silently asking for Tony to kiss at his neck and leave just the right amount of stinging beard burn on his skin.  “But tell me more about that link and what it means, you’ve piqued my interest.”

“Oh, that’s not important,” Tony says, letting his hands wander down to slide Steve’s underwear down his hips then up to press into the bare small of his back.  “Just giving you some more options if you should ever be tempted to resort to bad language.”

“Hey now,” Steve says, mock-stern, or at least as stern as he can muster when he’s rubbing his half-hard cock against Tony’s leg, seeking out any friction he can get.  “I thought you were letting that go.  No wonder why you said Hill would like it.”

“I have no shame,” Tony says, grinning into Steve’s neck.  He reaches over to switch off the bedside lamp.  “Let’s talk about it tomorrow.”

“Maybe,” Steve says.  He winds his arms around Tony’s neck and Tony’s glad the room is dark so Steve can’t see how bright red he flushes as the perfect affection of it, the intimacy he’s never felt with anyone else before.  “But if I’m so against bad language, I can’t beg for you to fuck me, can I?”

Tony hears the humor in his voice and he just _knows_ this is the Steve that existed in the forties, the tiny scrappy Steve, the one who carried bruises and broken bones like a warrior, the one who always pulled his best friend into fights.  He knows he’s getting a part of Steve only two living people in the world have ever seen and he groans, at the words and the knowledge, and hitches Steve’s legs up around his hips.  “Damn, I love you so much,” he sighs, fumbling into the bedside table for the necessary supplies.

“Language,” Steve chides, and runs his hand down Tony’s back, a long and soothing motion that says _I’m here and you’re stuck with me_.  “And I love you too.”


End file.
